Your Pride and Prejudice: a Middle Earth Adventure
by annonymousauthorr
Summary: A Middle Earth epic. Follows the plot of the book by Tolkien, however two new characters join the company: Nathrindal and Aznor. And they bring all kinds of adventure, romance and danger into the lives of the dwarves :D.
1. Chapter 1

The forest had always been a lively place. Flowers of all different colors were always in bloom, sun rays filtered through the treetops, making patterns on the ground foliage. Here and there small animals had darted in and out of cozy hiding places. But recently a shadow had been cast over the forest. Nathrindal noticed it as she trudged through the forest. She had been looking for Radagast the Brown for hours, his mossy and rotting tree house had been left deserted. The critters such as Sebastian the hedgehog, a close friend of Radagast, hadn't been able to point her in the right direction but he did tell her that the forest was changing, it was turning poisonous and evil was rising from its depths. Nathrindal hadn't been in Fangorn since she was a child, but her intelligent and observant elf eyes had remembered everything, and now she could see the difference: plant's were dying, there were unusual tracks of abnormally large animals, the forest seemed to be darkening and the trees were swaying in anguish and their rustling leaves whispered concerns. Suddenly, Nathrindal's perfectly pointed ears heard a rustling in the undergrowth. Out popped a small figure, with pointy ears and large feet. Aznor, Nathrindal's hobbit friend, was panting and doubling over to catch her breath. She was a cute little hobbit. Quite slim indeed for a hobbit, she had long, wavy, hazel, hair that shone when the sun hit it, she had fair skin and light green eyes. Aznor was said to be the cutest hobbit in the entire city she had come from. She looked quite different in contrast to Nathrindal. Nathrindal may be an elf but instead of the usual blonde tones that elves inherit she had long, black, sleek, hair that went to the center of her back, her blue eyes looked like they went on forever and her fair skin was lighter than most elves, but most had admitted she was very pretty indeed. Finally Aznor spoke.

"I found his tracks, Radagast I mean, he was heading south towards Rivendell".

"Good job my dear friend, lets catch up with him." Hoisting the bow she was carrying on to her shoulder, Nathrindal, and Aznor headed into a southerly direction following Radagast's trail. They ran for a couple of minutes, branches scratching their faces and bramble bushes snagging at their delicately made, elven robes, till they stopped in their tracks. They heard voices. They heard the high, panicky, stuttering, voice that belonged to Radagast but also other deep male voices, coming from behind some thick brambles. Grabbing her smooth elven bow, Nathrindal nocked an arrow into place and aimed it at the direction of the voices. Taking a deep breath, she and Aznor stepped out of the forest and into a clearing where they found a strange sight indeed.

Thirteen dwarves, a tall grey wizard, and Radagast the Brown had all turned to face them. In an instance the dwarves drew sharp swords from their sheaths and pointed it at the two newcomers. But the grey wizard dismissed the dwarves with a wave of his large hand, signaling that the elf and hobbit were no threat. Aznor was the first to speak.

"You…you're Gandalf the Grey", she said, recognizing the old man, "You're said to have the most amazing fireworks around." The wizard laughed a rough but cheerful laugh.

"It seems my fireworks are better known than I am, but may I ask what Aznor the Hobbit from Lothlorien and Nathrindal the Dark Lady from Lothlorien are doing all the way in Fangorn? Visiting relatives in Rivendell, perhaps?" Gandalf asked politely, a glint of suspicion in his eyes. Putting her bow and arrow back on her back and standing up straight, Nathrindal answered.

"We could ask you the same question. But if you must know, we are here, sent by the Lady of Light, to assist Radagast with the strange happenings in Fangorn," she snapped. Radagast nodded quickly to confirm their story. Nathrindal scanned the sea of dirty and tired dwarf faces that were staring back at them, but she noticed one face in particular that stood out. Unlike the others, this dwarf had a thin, perfectly angular, nose, he had long, dark, hair and only a little bit of stubble surrounding his pink lips and he seemed to be quite young. Another, dark haired dwarf stepped out from the crowd.

"You have no business here with us, elf," he sneered.

"Indeed we don't," Nathrindal, retorted, "we are merely looking for Radagast and not a smelly company of dwarves." The last comment caused an outburst. A lot of protests and insults were flung around and one peculiar dwarf, with an axe embedded in his forehead, shouted at the two girls in Khuzdul. Aznor cautioned her friend and broke the silence with a tremendous, ear-splitting whistle.

"This is silly she snapped," an air of irritation in her voice, "we are not here to fight with you."

"She's absolutely right…I'm Bilbo by the way," chimed in another, more masculine, voice and out from the crowd stepped another, middle-aged, hobbit. Aznor seemed quite star struck at seeing another hobbit. The hobbit was slightly taller that Aznor, he was wearing a dirty pair of pants that went just beyond his kneecaps, a green vest that was topped off with a dark, red, velvet jacket. His light, bronze hair was wavy and went to his pointy hobbit ears. He smiled pleasantly at Aznor who had shaken herself out of her daze. Suddenly a howl pierced the air.

"A wolf?" one dwarf inquired, his voice trembling.

"That's no wolf, it's a Warg," Nathrindal whispered taking hold of her bow.

"And that means an Orc pack is not far behind," Gandalf added. With a loud crash an ugly, mass of coarse brown fur and vicious snapping teeth, resembling a large wolf, bounded into the clearing. Nathrindal prepared to let an arrow fly but in an instance the wolf collapsed on the ground, a poorly fletched arrow stuck in the center of its head. Nathrindal followed the direction from which the arrow had come and found its shooter. It was the handsome, young, dwarf. He glanced at her and smiled.

"The name's Kili," he mumbled. Nathrindal nodded and was about to reply when Gandalf interrupted. He addressed the girls. "It seems you were sent to us! I think the mysterious happenings in Fangorn are linked to our quest", he spoke quickly, "We are in danger here, I fear we are being tracked. If you will follow us I will explain everything later when we find safety." The girls looked at each other and nodded in approval and they raced after the rest of the company, out into the vulnerable Lone Lands.

The sun beat down on their backs. Now that they had left the cooling and protecting shade of the trees they truly realized how harsh the suns could be. Radagast and his Racing Rhosgobel Rabbits were in charge of providing a risky distraction so the company could get away. Radagast, having a gift with all creatures great and small, knew that a Warg couldn't resist the soft, fatty flesh of a rabbit. The company raced across the barren lands with Gandalf leading the way. Unfortunately the dwarves and hobbits, with their shorter, stumpy legs had trouble running long distances, so eventually the fleeing escapees were forced to hide out under the only small outcrop of rock they could find. They huddled together under the rock, catching their breath but trying to be deadly silent. In the distance they heard the snarls of the Wargs as they leapt after the rabbits. A smell, that made Nathrindal's stomach turn over with dread, tingled in her nose. The scrape of claw against rock alerted them to a presence. It was a Warg scout, and he was standing right above them. With a finger signal from one of the dwarves, Kili nocked an arrow to his bow; he closed his eyes and took a deep breath of air. In a fast and elegant move, Kili stepped out of the safety of the outcrop and let the arrow fly. The arrow found its target: the center of the Wargs head. With a howl of pain the giant beast tumbled down the rock face, for an agonizingly loud second it cried for help but Kili silenced it before it could draw too much attention. It was already too late. The Wargs desperate howls of help echoed across the Lone Lands and his fellow pack members responded. The disgusting, foul, looking Orcs turned their Wargs towards the scent of Dwarf and took pursuit.

"Hurry, we're not far away now," Gandalf ushered the rest forward.

"Where are you taking us wizard?" the dark haired dwarf snarled. Gandalf didn't reply, he simply turned and led the company towards the destination he had in mind.

They ran and they ran, the gap between predator and prey was getting ever smaller. Gandalf grazed the horizon for what he sought and finally his gaze found it. It was a hole, a hole that was surrounded by several rocks. A coy smile played on the wizard's dry lips. Stubborn Thorin, leader of the company, would not like what Gandalf had planned. "This way!" he yelled to the rest and pointed toward their way to get to safety. One by one they slid into the hole as the Wargs closed in. The hole (really it was more like a cave) was damp, and narrow. Slippery, green, slim clung to the walls and it was impossible to see where one was going. To the left, there seemed to be a dark tunnel winding underground through the Lone Lands. Gandalf charged into the tunnel without fear and slipped out of sight, everyone else quickly followed. Nathrindal smiled to herself, she loved the dark and followed her friends into the darkness without hesitation. As they cautiously made their way through the tunnels, groping the walls in order to find their way, and climbed further away from fresh air and daylight they heard the surprising call of an elven war horn and the battle cries of the Orcs. But the company couldn't afford to turn back now.

The silver, crest of the moon was high in the ink black sky when they finally climbed out of the foul-smelling tunnel. Everybody took a deep breath of the sweet, refreshing, spring, air. The stars twinkled beautifully and shone like diamonds in the clear, night, sky but what lay before the company was far more spectacular. Rivendell, The Last Homely House. It was a secret valley accessed by a steep, slippery zigzag path. The air became warmer, as they descended, and the smell of pine trees made Bilbo drowsy. Pine trees gave way to beech and oak trees and they were soon approached by the elves. The elves galloped towards them on pure, white, and powerful horses. The dwarves, feeling threatened, drew their swords and crowded together in a protective circle.

"Stand down", Gandalf ordered the dwarves, but they didn't dare risk it. A middle aged man jumped off his mighty steed and landed in front of the terrified dwarves. The man had straight, chocolate, brown, hair and eyes. Wrinkles were starting to appear on his forehead but he had a majestic and noble air to him. Nathrindal recognized him immediately. Shouldering her beautifully, carved, oak bow, she stepped forward and curtseyed in front of her uncle.

"Master Elrond," she said, bowing her head. Elrond chuckled and placed a comforting and strong hand on her shoulder. Elrond was the Master of the house. He was noble and as fair in face as an elf-lord, as strong as a warrior, as wise as a wizard, as venerable as a king of dwarves, and as kind as summer.

"Resta trimbiun falathlorn loa Rivendell?" Elrond said in elvish. Nathrindal stood, and smoothed out the wrinkles in her black robes.

"Esia dramigo relsia dom Casari galiom loa Fangorn" Nathrindal replied in a calm and relaxed voice. Elrond faced the dwarves and Gandalf.

"A star shall shine on the hour of our meeting," Elrond said to the crowd, "Mithrandir," he said facing and elegantly bowing to Gandalf. Gandalf bowed in return. "Quel kaima Lissenen ar' maska'lalaith tenna' lye omentuva, malia ten' yulna vasa."

"Elrond has allowed us to rest and feed here", Nathrindal announced, glowing with pride, "under the condition that you explain to us what exactly is going."

That night the elves and the dwarves dined in harmony and bliss. After a deliciously cooked meal and some delightful musical entertainment, Nathrindal and Aznor had been filled in on the quest of Erebor, and they were finally, and properly introduced to the dwarves, while Gandalf and Elrond went to the white chapel to speak in secrecy. There were thirteen in total, all quite short and stumpy. Most of them had long and oddly shaped beards, with beads of every color decorating their hair. They had an enormous appetite; they were loud and very rowdy but they grew on you. The fattest of them all was a ginger haired male named Bombur, then came Bifur, the lively Bofur, Nori and then the polite Dori, young adorable Ori, strong Dwalin, wise Balin, skilled and handsome Kili, his older brother Fili, old Oin, then there was Gloin and you couldn't forget the dark haired dwarf, and leader of the dwarves, Thorin Oakenshield.

After a night long of explaining and listening most of the company had fallen asleep next to a roasting and flaming fire, dawn was coming but Bilbo couldn't sleep. He missed home, the whistling of the kettle, the smell of freshly baked bread and of course the comfort of nestling up in a blanket and reading a good, old, classic book. Though the events of the day had greatly tired him, his Tookish curiosity was keeping him awake. He was greatly interested by the arrival of the two newcomers, and was dreading to speak to another hobbit about familiar subjects. But it seemed to be inevitable, because pretty young Aznor had just awoken from a deep, slumber and now it seemed that conversation was compulsory.

"Early riser?" Bilbo asked smiling, warmly.

"It's a custom in Lothlorien", she replied, stifling a great yawn and stretching her stiff back. "Haven't you slept this night?"

"No there has been too much on my mind." Aznor nodded in silent approval. She, also, had been thinking of the Dwarves quest to reclaim Erebor from Smaug the Terrible. It was dangerous and all odds seemed to be against them, but Aznor knew that regardless of the risks, they would join their quest, defeat Smaug and help the dwarves in reclaiming their homeland.

"Would you like to go for a walk with me, stretch your legs?" Aznor suggested. Bilbo nodded in agreement and they strolled down a deserted path. On either side of the cobble stone path, wildflowers of every variety were blooming such as African Daisies, Baby Blue Eyes and Celandines. The sun had just peeked over the horizon and the sky had now become pink like a sea of cotton candy. With the light of the sun coloring the clouds above with a pinkish hew, the sun slowly ascended, the sky in the west became deep neon blue as the light reached further out.

"So you're a hobbit that was raised in Lothlorien I heard," Bilbo asked.

" Well it's rather complicated, I'll tell you the less detailed version" Aznor began, "I was found in Lothlorien, by the Nimrodel River, where my mother, Mimosa, left me to be taken care of by the elves. I was adopted by two of the most kind and generous people you could ever hope to meet, two middle class elves, Aznereth and Eladar". Her face grew darker as she longed for her home. Bilbo touched the soft, bare skin of her forearm, in a comforting manner.

"Continue", he whispered.

" I also have two adoptive brothers and a sister: Eladen, Elazar and Azaril. I love them to death but they can be so difficult sometimes." They stopped at a little waterfall. The water rushed down over grey, moss-covered rocks and into a clear pond of blue water. When they looked into the cool water they saw little sand colored fish swimming about, and in the background the croak of tree frogs and the sizzling sounds of grasshoppers were comforting. Bilbo and Aznor nestled themselves in place between some reeds and continued talking.

"I was fortunate enough to be granted access to an elvish education. When I was around 20, in hobbit years of course, I met Nathrindal. She's one of my best friends." Aznor said.

"She's quite different to the rest of the elves, dark and breathtaking she is, but rather peculiar indeed," Bilbo mentioned. Aznor stifled a smile. "She is not like most elves because she is a direct descendant of Sauron, a dark elf himself, and when she was born the Prophets of Mordor crowned her the Lady of Darkness." Bilbo just nodded, he wasn't quite sure what a Lady of Darkness was but he didn't want to seem ignorant so he refrained from asking Aznor anymore questions about the subject. Luckily Aznor changed the subject.

"Do you miss home?" Aznor inquired.

"Indeed I do," Bilbo replied.

"Where are you from?"

"I am a Baggins of Bag End, which happens to be situated in the rolling, green, hills of the Shire", he said, puffing out his chest proudly. "I quite miss my beloved hobbit hole, with its neat little garden, and the vast cabernet of delicacies and the rows of books I have. Most of my books are about adventures like, _The Travels of Buffin Proudfoot_ or _The First Hobbit to Ride a Real Horse._ "

"Books about adventures?" Aznor gasped with content, Bilbo noticed the sparkle of excitement in her amazing eyes. "Elvish books are all about the wisdoms of life, and about herbal remedies and ancients spells", Aznor said rolling her eyes, "I mean it's all very interesting…if you like that kind of stuff."

"Well, if we survive this horrible ordeal, you must come visit me and you can read _all_ of my books," Bilbo promised. Aznor having never lived with hobbits, in fact had never had any contact with any hobbit before, showed her gratitude by throwing her arms around a stunned Bilbo and pulled him close. She let go and they sat there in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet. When suddenly they heard loud shouts coming from the direction of their camp.


	2. Chapter 2

"We leave in half an hour everyone!" Thorin yelled to the group of sleepy dwarfs. Most of them were still sleeping when their leader suddenly decided it was time to head for the mountains. Ori slowly opened an eye, then the other. He was slowly emerging from his stupor, and he noticed that Nori was doing the same. As soon as he felt confident enough to stand, he did. Dori, who had prepared breakfast for his younger brother was hopping over the sacks that constituted the waking dwarfs on the lustrous floor of the elven terrace.

Nathrindal was standing remotely from the busy group, leaning over the marble balustrade and gazed at the landscape. The warming sun was rising, though it was fairly early, and was warming her light skin. The grey mountains were stretching out in front of them to the left, and some snow could be seen on the very top of the Waenen peek. The magnificent elven houses could be seen lying in the valley, their white walls shining and glittering in the morning sun. Suddenly, something moved to the right. It was far away, but her elven eyes were sharp enough to catch a glimpse of the moving shapes coming out of the forest. She instantaneously recognized one of the two shadows, which caused her to raise the corners of her mouth a little. The familiar blue outfit was recognizable, and Nathrindal knew Aznor was on the path. She couldn't distinctly recognize the other shape, but a quick look around confirmed her suspicion: It had to be Bilbo. The two hobbits had left the camp to go to the waterfall a couple of hours ago, and were now heading back to Elrond's house. Nathrindal had an interior smile: that was so much like Aznor. She loved to meet new people and most of the time, couldn't resist her desires. Since she was small, she had been dreading to meet another hobbit. She knew she was one, and that they lived far over the Misty Mountains in the northwest of Middle earth, but had never met one before and her knowledge of the Halflings stopped there. "Tsk, hobbits." She thought to herself.

"Some fruit, my Lady?" Nathrindal's thoughts were disturbed by Kili, presenting a silver plate full of shiny pears, apples and plums to her. The curious dwarf took the initiative to start a conversation, overcoming his intimidation because of this mysterious appeal he was feeling: his thoughts were inevitably drawn towards the dark Lady of Lothlorien. His slumber was full of her dark and silky hair, her large shiny eyes and mysterious gazes, but was not going to share this with his companions or his brother. "Thank you, Kili," She said as she grasped a red apple. Kili smirked a little: Nathrindal had remembered his name. He turned away with the plate, and headed towards the big table laid with a sumptuous cutlery and assortment of dishes: different kinds of vegetables, cakes, cream and fruits were covering the entire surface.

"So, how did it go?" asked Nathrindal with a grin. The group had set off towards the mountain path and she was walking a little apart from the group with Aznor.

" How did what go?" answered Aznor as innocently as possible, though the way her eyes were nervously avoiding any eye contact obviously betrayed the fact that she knew perfectly what her friend was talking about.

"Your little excursion with Master Baggins last night," explained Nathrindal.

"Oh, that. Well, I had awaken and he couldn't sleep so we decided to visit a little you know, just to profit from Rivendell while we could."

"Sure." Said Nathrindal, ending the conversation. She would just keep her thoughts to herself. At least for now. They walked in this quite uncomfortable silence for a time, until Bofur joined in. They spoke about things and others, and started to get to know each other a little more. Both of the newcomers appreciated Bofur's usual cheerfulness, which was quite a rare quality to be found in a dwarf.

"Majesty, would you consider stopping for a while? Ori and Bombur seem to be have trouble keeping up, and the group agrees that this river is very charming and seems perfect to cool ourselves of this heat," Dori proposed timidly. Thorin shifted his head to the right to discover Dori, his large face reddened by the effort and the sun. He took a second to think, and realized that his feet were hurting and that he was also feeling tired and hungry.

"We shall not stop for long, we have to put as much distance as possible between us and Rivendell before sunset. Let us profit from the water as long as we have some, but be prepared to leave in two hours. Once in the mountains, we might not see any before long. Fill up all the skins" He reckoned.

"Thank you your majesty, I shall inform the others." Answered Dori, relieved. He turned around and joined the group.

The dwarfs were now sitting in the grassy bank by the stream, enjoying the small breeze blowing on their faces. Some of them were bathing or washing their clothes in the river while Bombur and Balin were preparing lunch for the company. Fili, Kili, Thorin and Dwalin had left the group to investigate the small forest, and hopefully catch a rabbit or two while Ori and Aznor went picking berries. Bifur, interested by the task, joined them. Though Aznor couldn't fully understand what he was saying, she managed, with Ori's help and her rare recalls about Khuzdul language studies, to get the picture of what he was talking about. Bifur knew nothing about berries, but he knew about leaves. He pointed at different trees, speaking with his deep and muffled voice to Ori, who then translated to Aznor what he was explaining. The merry group continued along these lines as they were gathering all sorts of natural goods. Nathrindal was sitting on a grey and imposing rock, some distance away from the camp. She preferred loneliness to most social contacts, which she avoided when she could. Her left foot, peeping out of the dark robes, lightly brushed the waters surface, creating ring-shaped ripples. She was sitting with her back proudly held, a noble aura around her. As she was braiding a small strand of hair, an ancient elvish song came to her mind: The ancient elven tale of Lùthien and Beren. It was a well-known story to all elves, and the lyrics were frequently heard in the streets of major town in the elven kingdoms. Nathrindal started singing, her voice high and clear, the notes and lyrics coming naturally to her. Too absorbed by her music, she didn't notice the sound of leather boots crushing leafs in the distance. Kili was sent back to camp by Thorin, who wanted to teach his younger nephew new fighting techniques. Kili was stumping out of the forest, grumbling, when he heard Nathrindal's song. He stopped right in the middle of the path, listening. He could not understand the lyrics, but he could feel the sorrow in Nathrindal's voice and was focusing on the clear, pure and beautiful chanting of the elf. She was now standing, on the edge of the half-immersed rock, her long hair delicately falling on her immaculate corset. Kili stood for a while, like hypnotized, then quietly crept away not to disturb Nathrindal; and headed towards the camp, his head full of mysterious and beautiful elven words.

The company had now been walking for a while when the sun went down, but where they were, they couldn't stop to establish a camp for the night so they were forced to climb ever higher and deeper into the mountain. A terrible rain was now falling on the narrow and dangerous mountain path, and the dwarfs were not pleased at all by the weather. Little Bilbo was walking behind with Oin and Gloin, just behind Aznor and Ori. The two were, despite the torrential rain, having a merry discussion about knitting, something that Ori seemed to excel at. Bilbo was wondering about last night, smiling and slightly blushing as he remembered Aznor's spontaneous hug, and how embarrassed she looked afterwards. He must admit he liked spending time with the hobbit, and would like to get to speak to her in private again if ever they got the chance. Even though it was quite childish and unusual, he didn't mind her hugs, quite the opposite. He was going to join Ori and Aznor's conversation when a terribly loud scream was heard. Suddenly, the mountain was trembling, the wind howling, rocks seemed to be falling from the skies and two colossal rock giants appeared in the landscape. They were part of the mountain and had just woken up, waking up terrible storms as they rose.

"I will speak about my mother's doilies later" thought Bilbo, terrified.

"By Aulë, what is happening?" Asked Fili, protectively pressing against his brother.

"The gods bless me, stone giants!" Said Bofur to himself.

"Everyone stays together!" Shouted Thorin to the pack while he was pushing stones off the path to find his way towards the group. The two stone giants seemed to be fighting against each other, throwing stones around, creating terrible earthquakes and terrorizing the dwarfs. All of a sudden, one of the giants took a step back and something surreal happened: half of the group was squashed flat onto the mountain wall. Nathrindal twitched when she realized Kili was part of this half.

"No!" yelled Thorin completely stunned by the event. The stone giant took a step forward again, and the worried dwarves discovered that some of the dwarves who were compressed were still moving.

"Kili!" shouted a voice in Nathrindal's head, and she jumped the meter between the two halves of the group but unfortunately tripped and fell flat on the top of the bowman. The dwarf was detailing the elf's beautifully delicate face and was drawn to her dark and magnificent eyes. Nathrindal looked at him with anxiety and confusion when he teased with a grin and a wink.

"You could at least wait for us to be alone before jumping on me!" He said. Nathrindal's face relaxed (she even smiled a little) and answered:

"Don't be silly." with a reprimanding voice, as she rose from the floor and smoothed her dress. She had come back to her impassible state and no emotions could be detected. A quick check around confirmed that the dwarves were only slightly injured, but none had died, which greatly relieved Thorin. Aznor was moving towards Nathrindal, who didn't seem really disturbed by the situation, and was calmly trying to stay away from the edge as much as possible. Aznor looked around, counting the members of the company. Fifteen. Someone was missing. She looked around, trying to find out who was missing; but she knew even before she started: the bronze haired Halfling. Completely submerged by panic, she frantically started screaming.

"Bilbo! Bilbo!" forgetting all about elven manners, and desperately hoping to see the hobbit safe against the mountain wall. Nathrindal was gazing at her screaming and shouting friend when she heard a small 'here' nearly inaudible, coming from the right. She bent down and saw Bilbo's hand, desperately trying to hold onto the slippery rocky edge, while the rest of his body was hanging in thin air far, very far above the ground.

"He's here!" She shouted loudly to get the attention of the panicked group, and Bofur arrived to help her. Aznor also turned towards Nathrindal in a split second, her eyes widely opened by terror and her hair completely soaked. At this precise moment, Nathrindal realized how much and why the Halfling was so important to Aznor: the only representative of her race she ever saw was about to slip down and die in terrible pain just after they had met. Bofur was now bending over the edge, held at the belt by Bifur, Dori, Gloin, Fili and Kili, trying to reach Bilbo's slippery hand. Bilbo, feeling his fingers losing strength, saw Aznor's panicked and terrorized face over the edge, and in a last attempt tried to give himself enough impulsion to catch Bofur's hand...and succeeded. After pulling the soaked hobbit up onto the safety of floor, the dwarves made sure he was okay. Aznor, in a delighted squeal, embraced Bilbo in a brief, tight hug. He was too exhausted to react or move.

Nathrindal was relieved, and felt quite glad she had heard the Halfling's tiny peep before he fell. She took the head of the company and walked with Fili and Kili to find a safe place for the company to rest. For a couple of seconds, Kili peered at her: they intensely looked into each other's eyes and felt an electrical current between them. Nathrindal felt an urge to touch his face but didn't move a finger and kept looking at him in the eyes with a completely emotionless stare. Kili smirked and joined his brother a couple of steps ahead. Something special had just happened and both of them felt different but didn't know what to think about it. But this was not the immediate priority. They had to find a shelter and quickly, or they would freeze to death.

Bilbo was looking at fire, lost in his thoughts. He was part of the only ones still awake with Nathrindal, Bofur, Nori and Aznor, and was feeling empty and exhausted but he knew he just wouldn't be able to sleep until he spoke to the hobbit sitting on his left. He was planning on staying around the fire until they all left, so he sat still and silent, hoping he wouldn't have to wait too long. Nathrindal was discussing strategy with Nori while Bofur was softly playing music on his flute. The hobbit had thanked the elf many times for she had saved him from certain death, but didn't obtain much of any reaction apart from a slight shrug of the shoulders. "Never mind" thought Bilbo, he was still immensely grateful to the Lady of Darkness. One after the other, everybody left the fireside to go to bed, and the two hobbits were left alone. After a couple of minutes, Bilbo couldn't stand the silence anymore so he turned to Aznor and began with an uncertain voice.

"I would like to talk to you about what happened earlier today." Aznor stiffened and Bilbo smiled. He passed his arm around her shoulders in a reassuring way as she answered, her voice betraying a little stress.

"Yes, please excuse my attitude, I was far too familiar with you, I mean I really should have controlled myself, it's just that I was really panicked so I didn't, you know, control myself. It's just that you are the first hobbit I have ever met, and I really want to know more about you. Sorry Bilbo. I won't do that again I promise. Sorry." As she spoke, he tenderly detailed her face: she really was pretty. Far prettier than the female hobbits he had met around Hobbiton. Maybe it was the elven influence that made her skin look lighter, but that didn't matter to him. Her green eyes were captivating.

"It's alright. I wanted to thank you for your concern, and don't worry about manners, just be yourself. I want to get to know the hobbit, not the elf." She looked up at him and smiled, a smile of sincere happiness. Bilbo carefully tucked a strand of her soft hair behind her ear and they sat next to the fire for a while when they heard a strange noise.

The sandy floor started to creak, and Thorin, aware of the imminent danger, called everyone to wake up. In a split second, the floor cracked open and everyone in the cave went rolling down a vertical, dark and rocky tunnel, bumping their heads on the tunnel wall until they all fell on top of each other in a sort of enormous basket circled with wooden claws to prevent the prisoners from escaping. Balin was trying to get out from underneath Bombur, which is quite impossible knowing that you need at least four strong dwarfs to carry him. They didn't get much time to reorganize themselves before a horde of hysterical goblins came to torment them. Each and every member of the company (apart from Gandalf who seemed to have disappeared) was firmly held by number of evil creatures, which were pushing them towards a fragile looking rope bridge. They were all completely submerged and outnumbered by the enemy and had no other choice than to follow the goblins. After about ten minutes of pushing, teasing, snarling and kicking, the group of adventurers were presented to the Great Goblin, leader and tyrant of Goblin Town. Swiftly looking around him, Gloin could see rope bridges, wooden huts, thousands of torches exposing scary shadows on the mountain walls and legions of goblins teeming around towards what they called the "center of town".

Nathrindal was starting to get very annoyed by the Great Goblin's teasing, even though she didn't have any particular friendly feelings for Thorin. She was staring at his hanging skin beard, and was wondering what would happen if she cut through it. The goblins were now getting angry and very excited, and on their leader's order, they attacked the dwarfs. They were about to get massacred when Gandalf appeared armed with Glamdring, the Foe Hammer, in a great beam of light, releasing so much energy that everyone fell flat on the wooden floor.

"Take up the arms!" Said he, in an imposing and imperial voice. "Fight!" He shouted to the company, who took advantage of the Goblin's weakness to get up and grab their swords. Nathrindal grabbed her bow and, cornered back to back with Kili, they shot arrows in every direction with great dexterity while they rotated.

"Nice shot!" Kili said, seeing the Goblin Nathrindal shot with extreme precision just between the two eyes.

"You aren't bad either," she answered, a very subtle smile on her lips. As the group fought and progressed on the wooden platforms and rope bridges through Goblin town, Bofur realized that little Bilbo went missing, again, but didn't get a chance to tell anyone. Ori had noticed it also.

"Ouch!" Thought the hobbit, slowly opening one eye to discover nothing more than darkness. He could feel his whole body aching, resting on some sort of gooey material, perhaps mushrooms. He was wondering where he was, his sword and the goblin who tackled having had fallen, when he heard a sound. A spine-chilling sound came from the shadows and a split second after, two enormous, gloomy eyes were shining in his direction, and Bilbo thought he was going to faint.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a creature like he had never seen before. It was revolting. Its skin was a dull grey, it only had a few strands of black, slimy hair left on its head, and it had enormous feet and big blue eyes. The most disgusting thing about the creature was the rotting stench coming from its horrible mouth. Bilbo scrambled away from the creature and drew his sword. The sword was glowing an eerie, neon blue because of its proximity to goblins. The goblin that had fallen with him lay some distance away in a crumpled heap. The before him creature swayed from side to side staring menacingly at a frightened Bilbo.

"Stay back," Bilbo threatened, waving his sword.

"It's threatening us precious," the creature spat, "it thinks it can scary Gollum, ah it's foolish but what is it?"

"I'm a hobbit," Bilbo said. "I'm a hobbit named Bilbo."

"A hobbits? We like hobbits," the creature Gollum sneered. "I've never eaten a hobbits before, fish yes, but never hobbits. What do hobbitses taste like?"

"I wouldn't know," Bilbo said, utterly confused and frightened. "I'm not looking for any trouble, I just want to get out of here." The creature turned around to reveal a boney back and began retching out the name Gollum. Then abruptly it stopped, squealed with delight and jumped on the nearest rock. He twirled on the rock in joy, now Bilbo was completely dumbfounded.

"Sméagol hasn't had company in a long time, especially not a juicy, tasty hobbits before." He began singing an ear splitting song and in all the turbulence he was causing something small fell out of his pocket. It landed soundlessly just in front of the hobbit's feet. It was a thin, golden ring. In a split second, and without Gollum noticing, Bilbo picked up the ring and slipped it in his pocket.

"I'm really sorry to interrupt," Bilbo began, "but could you please direct me to the way out?"

"Ah yes we cans, can't we precious? Yes, but first hobbits must play with us a game, yes a games of riddles, or you never gets to leave." Gollum smiled a black-toothed smile, his cold eyes full with malice and intent on making sure the hobbit never left this cave.

The Goblin King, stood in the middle of the bridge, his enormous size blocking their way out. He smiled and belted out a rumbling laugh that seemed to shake the entire cave. The fragile bridged shook dangerously and all the dwarves were terrified that at any minute the ropes would break and they would all plummet to their deaths.

"Thought you could get away from the greatest king under the mountain," he snarled, strands of spit flying all over the company. From all around them goblins jumped and screeched in delight that their prey had been caught.

"How does it feel to be defeated again, Thorin Oakenshield", the King gloated with satisfaction. Nathrindal had had enough. Rolling her stunning eyes, she bent down and from her boot she took a small, ragged dagger. With immaculate precision she threw the dagger and it pierced the Goblin King's great eye. He yowled in pain and stumbled backwards and tripped over his own large repugnant feet. The impact of his tremendous weight falling on the already fragile bridge was the last straw. With a dreadful crack the rope holding the bridge snapped and the whole company fell into darkness.

Luckily the dead body of the former king softened their fall.

"Ugh, good work Nathrindal", Fili groaned sarcastically, jumping up and dusting off his clothes. Nathrindal lay on the floor, stones stabbed at her back and her head was pounding. She looked up and saw a handsome face looking down at her. Kili extended a coarse hand, which she greatly took. He smiled at her but no more words could be exchanged before Gandalf's urgent voice rang out.

"Everyone, run! Now!" Everyone looked up the steep hill where they had come from and saw a stampede of angry goblins racing down the hill, equipped for revenge, towards them. The company ran through the cave in utter darkness, using only the dim light from Gandalf's staff as guidance. They seemed to run forever, following the twists and turns of the cave until they saw a relieving slit of daylight up ahead. They ran, as fast as their exhausted legs could carry them through the caves entrance and down the following hill. While they had been trapped inside, a clouded dawn had risen, grey wisps of cloud covering a beautiful sunrise. The cold bit at their faces and turned their noses red. Finally, when they knew the goblins wouldn't venture this far out into daylight, they stopped to respite. Coughing and panting, Bombur, Gloin and Ori collapsed against a pine tree's trunk, Fili and Kili sat together sipping some well deserved water while Gandalf made sure that the company was in one piece. Aznor was the first to speak.

"Bilbo!" she shrieked. Panic and fear clogged her throat and she turned an even paler white. Nathrindal raced over to her friend and clasped her delicate shoulders. "Where's Bilbo?" Aznor choked out. From behind a tree Bilbo was waiting, invisible thanks to the ring he had…borrowed from Gollum, listening but he didn't dare to speak.

"The hobbit must have abandoned us," a glum voice said. The voice belonged to Thorin, and all turned to face him. "He never wanted to come with us in the first place, and it would've been better if he'd had stayed in his cozy little hobbit hole."

"That's not fair and you know it," Aznor retorted, her cheeks getting red with rage, "something must have happened to him, he would never abandon us…we have to go find him." She added in a whisper. At that Bilbo couldn't stand it any more, with a huff he took of the ring and stepped out from hiding.

"Nope I'm here," he said in triumph. Joy overwhelmed Aznor at the sight of seeing Bilbo alive and well. Without thinking and forgetting everything the elves had ever taught her, she ran into Bilbo's arms, knocking him over in the process. Again. An embarrassed Aznor and flabbergasted Bilbo climbed back to their feet, while the rest of the company tried to contain their laughter. A smile even crept on Nathrindal's lips. But their joy did not last long, for a long forgotten enemy had finally caught up with them. At the top of the hill stood a large, rare, white Warg and on top sat its master. Azog the defiler, a gruesome hook extending from his left arm. With a mighty war cry the Wargs crashed through the trees and bushes towards them. Scrambling to their feet the dwarves followed Gandalf's lead and climbed up the nearest trees where they would be out of reach.

The Wargs were soon upon them, surrounding them and menacingly snarling at them. In the treetops the dwarves cowered, they thought doom was about to consume them. Then out of the chilly morning sky the screeching cries of eagles echoed. First they only seemed like specks in the distance but as they neared it became apparent that they were large, actually very large. The birds spread their wings and dove down towards the trees. The Wargs below barked in fury. The brown eagles swooped down and one by one collected the company and sped back up into the sky and away from danger. When everyone had securely seated on top of the great birds, they relaxed.

"I have called for help, from an old friend, we are traveling to Lothlorien, it's a long way to go," Gandalf shouted so that everyone could hear; only Dori was having a little trouble understanding. The eagles soared carelessly through the sky, their dynamic wings cutting easily through the frosty morning air. On one smaller eagle, Kili and Fili were sitting together and laughing at the day's stressful events.

"An-and did you see how the chin skin wobbled" Fili laughed in hysteria, not being able to contain himself. Kili, rummaging through his pack back, pulled out a small wooden flask and took a sip. "Now to a more serious note", Fili belched out a long burp, "what's going on with you and Nathrindal? " He wiggled his eyebrows in order to make Kili laugh. It worked. "Nothing, I swear" Kili spluttered. Fili eyed him suspiciously, clearly in doubt. "Look nothing is going on, and if anything was going on…the whole race thing is kind of a problem". Kili threw himself on his side in order to catch a few winks of peaceful sleep, and with that the conversation was over.

The birds flew on for days journey, yet they never seemed to tire. Slowly the day wore on. Eventually day turned to into night and the clouds shrouded the sky with an eerie, ominous blanket. Only when the moon was nearing its highest peak in the coal black sky, was it then that the birds descended into a thick, canopy, of golden rustling leaves. When the birds resurfaced under the trees, the company was introduced to the shimmering city of Lothlorien, home to the Lady of Light, Galadriel. The birds extending their talons, landed gracefully in a clearing surrounded by colossal trees. Around them stood a welcoming committee of shining and beautiful elves. Aznor scanned the faces and found two that she had longed to see since the day she and Nathrindal had left home (about two years ago). Her adoptive parents, Aznereth and Eladar, stood arm in arm, looking for the child they cherished so dearly. Aznor jumped of the eagles, which were almost four meters from the ground, and miraculously landed safely on the ground and rushed forward to reunite with her parents. Everybody else took a more sophisticated way of dismounting the eagles; they slowly climbed down carved wooden ladders.

Once they had all dismounted and stood facing the elves of Lothlorien, they could fully absorb their pristine surroundings. Giant Mallorn trees kept, during the day, the suns rays from reaching the ground, which gave Lorien the effect of being in an eternal twilight. A silver, shimmery, mist, seemed to creep through the city and the mist bounced of the elves fair and flawless skin giving them the appearance to glow. Curiously the dwarves looked around for a nice sheltered home where they could fill their empty stomachs and put their heads down, but as far as their eyes could see there were only endless tree roots. It was only when they tilted their heads up that they saw wooden staircases twisting up the trunks of the trees all the way to the tree tops where there seemed to be an actual city. The dwarves mouths gaped in awe. When suddenly trumpets sounded and echoed through the forest. The welcoming committee of elves separated down the middle to make way for two glowing figures. As they approached, the company could clearly make out the slim silhouettes of a man and a woman. When they finally stood before the dwarves, Gandalf bowed to them and the others followed in accordance. The man, who looked to be in his mid years, had dark hair and a warm, but worn face. The woman on his left was far younger and was said, by many, to be the most beautiful elf that had ever roamed the vicious lands of middle earth. Kili doubted it though; he had one other beauty in mind and cast a quick glance at Nathrindal. The elven lady had wavy, almost white hair that fell down past her shoulder, she had poisonous blue eyes and white satin skin. The man was the first to speak.

"I, Gil-Galad, son of Fingon, and the High King of the Noldor, welcome you to Lothlorien my friends" he said in a mighty but soothing voice. The ladies voice was higher and sweeter.

"And I am Lady Galadriel, Lady of Light, keeper and ruler of Lothlorien," she sang, her voice high and clear, "Mithrandir, I'm happy to see that the eagles reached you in time. I was worried when you called for my help."

" I was worried too, and I thank you for your help and compassion", Gandalf smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Well, a star shall shine on the hour of our meeting", Gil-Galad added, "I have read the stars and I know you are on a mighty quest, Thorin Oakenshield." He spoke to the dwarves directly for the first time.

"Oh, you have, well I didn't know elves could read," Thorin retorted while Gandalf shook his head. Gil-Galad brushed of this snarky comment and laughed.

"We have much to discuss," Lady Galadriel said, her clear voice ringing out through the clearing. "This mission is dangerous, and it affects all of us. But for now you shall stay for two nights and be our guests." With those final words the welcoming committee dispersed. Thorin and Gandalf set of and walked slowly at the sides of the great rulers while the other dwarves were ushered to one of the colossal trees. They climbed the stairs and were silently hoping they would not have to walk all the way to the top, and as their luck would have it, they stopped after a short while in front of a door. The door seemed to have been carved into the side of the tree. The elves opened the door and pushed the dwarves inside. Inside the house it was warmly lit by a blazing stove fire, there were exactly 15 beds, for every member of the company, (Aznor was staying with her parents) there was a living room, with comfortable lounges that were decked out with woolen blankets and pillows and a dining room. In the dining room, there was a table deliciously served with all kinds of elven delicacies. Without hesitation the dwarves pounced on the table and stuffed their faces.

Kili awoke on the soft, crimson sofa in front of the fire. The fire was now only glowing, red, coals but heat still wafted from it. From the sounds of snoring dwarves drifting down the hallway, he assumed that nobody was awake yet. Last night, after a full meal the company had sat down around the fire and told traditional dwarvish stories. Kili had eventually collapsed on the couch after having five mugs of elven wine. He closed his eyes and relished in the quiet when he heard the soft steps of bare feet on the wooden floor. He didn't dare move till he heard the entrance door open and close with a reassuring creek. Quickly and quietly, not bothering to throw a thicker shirt on, he followed the stranger out the door in only his boots, pants and a flimsy, brown linen shirt. He recognized the stranger immediately. Her sleek, black, hair moved slightly as she walked. Nathrindal. Kili's heart gave a shudder and without thinking, he secretly followed her through the trees. They walked for a while, Kili making sure not to make a sound which Nathrindal's sharp, elven ears could pick up. Finally Nathrindal stopped near a lake. The lake's water was clear, and baby blue, at the other of the lake a little waterfall trickled down some rocks, the whole lake was bordered by green foliage. She accessed the water by a little sand shore, she slowly sauntered in, her loose, white, nightgown, and silky, purple mantel floated on the waters surface. Kili crouched behind a bush and almost had a heart attack when he heard a rustling of leaves a few paces left from him. Out of the trees trotted a powerful, bay horse with a pure white star on its forehead, but not just any horse: a Mearas. Kili was astound, the Mearas were one of the fastest breed of horses of Middle-earth. Their mortality is equal to Men and their intelligence and strength are extraordinary. They were usually only ridden by the Kings and Queens of Rohan. The horse neighed a greeting to its mistress and joined her in the water. She extended a hand in friendship and then kissed him on the muzzle. Kili watched them for a while, frolicking in the water. He forgot time and place and he also didn't hear the approaching footsteps. He wasn't prepared to be wrenched back by the collar of his shirt.


End file.
